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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969281">"If Anyone Can Pull It Off . . ."</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale'>DixieDale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:40:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For once HQ was laying it on the line about a job.  This one they weren't calling a 'piece of cake', or 'a little walk in the park'.  This one even HQ admitted was a rough one, one where the chances of success were slim to say the least.  Still, in the estimation of the four-man panel in charge of deciding who should make the attempt, only one name stood out - Lieutenant Craig Garrison.  But not even Craig Garrison could do it alone; he was going to need help.  Lucky for him, the team backing him up was solid, rock hard solid.  Just like the pounding headache he had by the time the job was over.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>"If Anyone Can Pull It Off . . ."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>FROM 'THE LEGACY' (posted 9/11/2020)<br/>
*"If anyone can pull it off, it would be Lieutenant Garrison and his team.  They're quite good at this sort of thing," Colonel Dixon declared, lending his whole-hearted support behind the name suggested for this mission.  "And there's no one better at the double-think, evasive manoeuvres, even the pure confidence game than Garrison.  If it weren't so advantageous for our side, it would almost be embarrassing!  Yes, to my estimation, they'd be the ones with the only chance of identifying and making off with those treasures."</p><p>He snorted, "of course, whether WE end up with those particular items, at least all of them, is another story."*</p><p> </p><p>So the higher-ups decided Garrison and the team were the only ones with any chance of pulling it off, thwarting the German plans to make off with a collection of rare treasures from a small if rather exquisite museum in Bayonne.  Not MUCH of a chance, mind you, but maybe a slight chance.  To the four-man board making the assignment, it was worth the risk, considering just how much those treasures could enhance the Fuhrer's war chest.  (Well, to three of the four men it was worth it; Major Kingston had his own viewpoint and his own plans as was often the case, but that's a different story!)</p><p>Garrison looked at the file again, went over it in his mind before sliding it into his briefcase and heading back to the Mansion.  An intriguing situation, certainly, perhaps enough to get his mind off the agony of their past experience, all that time worrying that he'd lost their pickpocket and probably Meghada as well.  All that time with that ghastly image of a mutilated body that looked all too familiar.</p><p>The pieces of the new puzzle were there, all in that file, at least the pieces HQ had knowledge of (or at least were deigning to share with him, and he was quite aware that those in charge often held back things they felt he 'didn't really need to know', or had decided were simply irrelevant, blast them!).  </p><p>He spent most of the trip back to Brandonshire moving the pieces around on that invisible three-dimensional chessboard that the guys teased him about having installed in a corner of his brain, but nothing struck him as being particularly promising.</p><p>Surely there was a way, but he had to admit, as of now he didn't have any concrete idea of how to go about it.  Still, he was sure he'd come up with the right scheme.  (He, like Goniff, always had another brilliant plan just waiting to materialize.  That sometimes his guys had pretty much the same unappreciative opinion of either his OR Goniff's plans or their so-called brilliance just never occurred to him!  Oh, sure, about some of the mad schemes his pickpocket could come up with, but not HIS brilliant plans!)</p><p>At least they had a wedge, a possible entre on this job, what with Meghada knowing the curator of the museum in danger of being looted, the pieces involved.  Ah, correction - in the words of the German toady who'd come up with the plan - "being transferred into protective keeping due to their significant cultural and historical value".   In other words, Hitler and his cronies thought they could make better use of the collection than just letting them sit around in a small museum in Bayonne for the rest of the war.                </p><p>Once everyone was settled into chairs in the Common Room and he'd briefed them, he turned to the O'Donnell woman with a quizzical look.  </p><p>"That is, if they have it right, that you and DeReighn know each other and that he'll be inclined to help us."  </p><p>Actor had already voiced his skepticism, though privately, when Garrison had given him a short preview of the mission earlier in the office below.</p><p>"Really, Craig.  I know Marco DeReighn quite well; it is hardly likely, is it?  Oh, not the helping part; if it will ensure the safety of his exhibits, I am sure he can be encouraged to cooperate, should be most eager in fact.  But for Meghada to have as close a familiarity, with him AND with the contents of his museum, as is being claimed?  That is something quite different."  </p><p>If all that sounded somewhat snobbish, well, that was Actor for you.</p><p>Now Meghada assured Garrison of the value and the significance of that target, as well as her solid connection to Marco DeReighn, the curator of long-standing of that Bayonne institution.</p><p>"Truly a fantastic collection, Craig.  Marco has given me the tour on various occasions.  I will admit, each time he made me promise not to leave with any of the pieces, especially not that De Medici ring with the emerald inset hiding the dosing compartment, or that jeweled stiletto with emerald and diamond chips that I positively drooled over - the ring was exquisite, and the stiletto?  I swear, it had the most perfect balance, and the hilt fit my hand like it was made for me!  The ones who made them were truly artists to combine beauty and function to such a happy outcome.  But my tours were quite extensive," Meghada assured him, "and I can visualize the targeted pieces from that list quite well."  </p><p>If she was wondering why THOSE pieces were being targeted instead of the far more valuable others she remembered, ah, that was a question perhaps for someone else at a different time.  Still, she had to admit, even the second and third tier pieces listed were quite worth the effort the Nazis were going to.</p><p>"This shit yer talkin' about - it's all worth a hefty chunk of change, huh?" Casino uttered from behind his drink, trying unsuccessfully to hide the speculative calculation behind that question, the equally speculative glance he exchanged with their resident pickpocket.  That sparkle in Goniff's eyes alone would have been enough to put the others on alert, not that they really needed that warning, not with that slow, sly grin of anticipation now gracing the smaller man's face.</p><p>Meghada shook her head in mock reproof at the unrepentant duo, beating Actor and Garrison to the draw.  If Actor's look was more of a 'not NOW, idiots!  Later, when we're alone!' rather than Garrison's 'NO!  Absolutely NOT!  Don't even THINK about it!' scowl, well, that was only to be expected.  Chief just looked bored, waiting for someone to get to the point.</p><p>"You might say so, Casino," she replied.  "The jewels are lovely and diverse, the metalwork - gold, silver, bronze - worthy of any knowledgeable collector even without the gems.  The value is, of course, far, far greater than the sum of its parts.  What is frustrating, above and beyond the arrogance of Jerry making off with the entire lot without anyone's by-your-leave, is that you never know if Hitler intends to liquidate the pieces to private collectors, which would at least keep them intact, or simply pry out the gems and melt down the precious metals!  If they succeed in pulling this off, hopefully it will be the first, not the latter.  There are certainly enough willing buyers, and at least the articles could be retrieved by some enterprising individuals afterwards.  That's certainly better than having them stripped down to their components!"</p><p>Actor shuddered at the barbarity of that notion, though taking some consolation that the barbarian MAKING that statement seemed almost as appalled at the idea as he was.  Still, the thought of Marco DeReighn allowing said barbarian even within the hallowed halls of the museum he remembered with such fondness was most disturbing, let alone to allow her such familiarity with those treasures.  At least he knew HE could truly appreciate the riches housed there, while Meghada . . .   Well, her outlook on things frequently did not align with his, especially in matters of good taste, culture, proper behavior, etc.  He still remembered with more than a little indignation her professed opinion of champagne!  </p><p>{"Cat piss, indeed!  It is typical of her, of course, that the things that would most attract would be weapons - a stiletto, a ring designed for an assassin - and probably as much if not more for their utility as their beauty or provenance!  No matter her claim, she simply hasn't the capability of appreciating the artistry involved!"}</p><p>The cool amusement in Meghada's gold-brown eyes as they met his own made him uneasy, made him wonder (not for the first time) whether she really COULD read minds as had been laughingly suggested a time or two.  He doubted that was true, however.  If she really could, he thought he would probably have been dead a very long time ago, soon after their first meeting.</p><p>The others were interested in the descriptions of the targeted collection, though ruefully acknowledging that Garrison really meant it when he'd told them "and not one piece from that collection - hell, from that museum, even the pen the guests sign in with!!! goes in anyone's pocket!  Hear me on this!"  </p><p>Oh, well, they'd keep their eyes open for anything NOT covered by that prohibition; there was usually SOMETHING that showed up that seemed promising.</p><p> </p><p>Bayonne:</p><p>"Coo!  Got to say, they aint going for the penny ante, not with THAT lot!  Not if it's as likely up close as it is from 'ere, anyways," Goniff breathed in awe, seeing what was being laid out on the long tables below.  </p><p>His view from the shadowed skylight might not allow him all the details, him having to be careful not to put his full weight on the elderly glass joined by the just-as-elderly metal framing with the putty so old it was crumbling even as he looked - along with avoiding the gaze of the two guards below, of course.  Still his vision was excellent and the array of glitter and flash would have impressed even someone who didn't understand just what they were seeing.  One long table, with a shorter one at right angles at each end of the long one, pieces of jewelry and ornaments and a few things he couldn't identify, all spread out as if on display, even if the cloth underneath was merely what appeared to be a white tablecloth, not something fancier like you might expect.  </p><p>He started to wiggle out just another inch or two to see what that oddly-shaped end piece on the long table might be, but stopped and moved back quickly when he felt the framework beneath him give a faint shudder at the increased burden.  No matter HOW much he wanted a closer look, it would hardly help matters if he went crashing down onto the table below.  Even those obviously bored and unconcerned guards would surely notice THAT!</p><p>He felt more than saw the hands reaching out, ready to grab him, steady his retreat should it prove necessary, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.  Hands - several sets, from the shadows they cast.</p><p>Ever since he and Meghada had gotten back from that impromptu job with Ainsley, after that poor bloke had been offed in his place, it seemed he had someone right at his elbow making sure he didn't stub his toe or get a splinter or something!  </p><p>Yeah, it was nice everyone had cared about him maybe ending up dead like that, but them now acting like he was an invalid or maybe didn't have good sense, that was getting old fast!  Even Casino!  </p><p>Maybe especially Casino, since the safecracker had been hovering the whole time since him and Meghada had gotten back, like a hen with one chick.  Goniff half expected the man to tuck him in at night or maybe try to burp him after a meal!  That thought brought a low chuckle, something none of the others on that rooftop could quite figure out as the situation didn't bring to mind anything humorous, not that they could see.</p><p>Somehow, though, the ease with which he and the others had reached that outlook - the very fact that they had all those lovely sparklies laid out under a skylight, all brightly lit by the side sconces in addition to the supplemental lighting, the fact that those guards never even seemed to glance upward toward the skylight, that ruffled the pickpocket's senses in a bad way.  Sure, Garrison had often said those who did the looking usually looked everywhere except up, but somehow in a room with that huge a skylight, that rich a pot to be looking after, that just didn't seem likely.  Even a total idiot .  . .</p><p>He frowned then, a skeptical look coming over his face as he turned toward his companions back in the shadows.  </p><p>"If they ARE the real thing, that is.  Not so easy to tell from this distance, can pretty much just see the sparkle and shine, not the details.  And the w'ole setup seems off, you know.  Why put the pretties w'ere anyone could 'ave a good glimmer at them from up 'ere?  And with no one really watching to make sure no one comes up the walls or that back way?  Any thief worth 'is salt would be knowing 'ow to get up 'ere and down again or 'e wouldn't be in the business.  Don't feel right, Lieutenant."</p><p>"Yeah, he's right, Warden.  Almost like they laid it all out with a big sign, 'Free Lunch - Help Yourself!', ya know?  IS it the real deal or are we being conned?" Casino whispered, off to the side.  "Intel said they were setting up decoys.  Be a damned shame, we snatch up the whole bundle, get back, and find out it's not the real thing.  There goes our rep, that's for damned sure!  Kingston won't EVER let us live it down.  Probably lay out the word that we made off with the real stuff, tried to palm off fakes to fool everyone."</p><p>"We'll know soon enough," Garrison reminded them.  "We'll meet up with Meghada in an hour or so; she should have had time to confer with her contact by then.  For now, this is the only collection we've been able to get a look at, and that's too far away to do us a lot of good, other than to scope out the security and a possible access port."</p><p>Unfortunately that access port was less helpful than he'd hoped for.  Yes, getting up here had been easy enough, and his guys could shimmy down a rope faster than greased lightning.  That wasn't the problem.  The problem was the sheer age of the building and the state of disrepair this portion seemed to be in.  That skylight for example - the latch and hinges were so old and fragile, any tampering would probably result in their complete collapse, along with the glass and connecting pieces.</p><p>Actor was a little miffed at Garrison's having ignored his own assurances that HE, unlike Goniff, would hardly be fooled by any such decoys, if only he could get a closer look.  Unfortunately, his vision wasn't quite as good, not enough so as to tell from the rim of the skylight, and he was too heavy to edge out to get a clearer view.  He'd heard that faint groan the structure had made even under Goniff's considerably lesser weight.  The folding binoculars had proven useless, the glass and metal construction of the skylight causing too much reflection to allow clear focusing.</p><p>He'd suggested conning his way in to get such a look, based on his old acquaintance, but he had to admit it made sense to listen to what Meghada had to say first and perhaps simplify the process.   After all, if DeReighn was already on their side, willing to help merely at Meghada's behest, it would be an unnecessary waste of energy to make a separate attempt.</p><p>He still couldn't wrap his mind around Meghada O'Donnell and her family supposedly being on such good terms with the renowned and long-term trustee of the Bayonne museum.  That the elderly, extremely sophisticated curator was the O'Donnell's contact had been a severe shock to his sense of rightness.  HE had known DeReighn for some fifteen, maybe closer to twenty years now, and always considered him a most sensible man, in addition to being quite knowledgeable.  This odd association just had to make him wonder if he had misjudged the distinguished octogenarian.  </p><p>(If Actor had known that the silver-haired gentleman had bounced an infant Meghada and her siblings on his knee on more than one occasion, it would have boggled his mind, never mind that DeReighn had done the same for Felane, Meghada's mother, when she'd been no older.  That Marco was also a devoted admirer of the woman known as the O'Donnell Clan's 'Grandmother', Actor would have been appalled to discover.  To have learned that Marco was (and had been for over sixty years) one of the several Consorts of that fierce and hot-blooded female - the Banshae D'Or, the Golden Banshee (known most affectionately to Marco as 'Goldie'), now a nonagenarian herself, that would have made him want to down a full bottle of the finest brandy just to wipe that knowledge from his consciousness!)</p><p>His reaction was a trifle stiff when Meghada eased into the room, but he quickly got over that at the news.</p><p>"Four shipments are being planned - one real one, the other three fakes.  Well, not FAKES, so much, just things from the far less important collections.  You know, the sort of thing most museums have drifting around in the basements, some donated by well-meaning individuals but not worthy of being displayed except when that individual - usually a heavy contributor - has made mention of being eager to see the display.  It is a touchy game, with a handy excuse always held in readiness. You know, "we have it in the side wing for cleaning, my dear sir!  The expert technician is due any day now; such a rare treasure, we would hardly trust it to anyone less skilled, obviously!</p><p>"While the one we are after is headed for Berlin, it is being left rather ambiguous as to where the others are going.  Although not the prime of the museum's collections, the other articles do still have value so I doubt they will be left by the side of the road.  One set is probably intended as payment to the man arranging this little heist, another possibly for the German in charge.  And, of course, there supposedly are other articles, previously 'collected' from other sites, though that is only rumor so far.  I imagine there are eager hands awaiting each and every item, whether on our list or not."</p><p>"So, what we saw from above?  Is it the real one?" Garrison asked, not being overly concerned about the three other shipments, OR the articles from other sources, only the one he was sent to collect.  That wasn't quite the case with his four men; considering their orders to keep their mitts off anything from THIS facility, anything not covered by that prohibition wasn't likely to go unnoticed.</p><p>"Oh, it's glittery enough, and has some value, but no, it's not what we've been sent to collect.   Things of a similar description, yes - similar types of jewelry and ornaments and such, but not nearly the most valuable of his specimens.  Four shipments, Marco swears.  The one you saw, the one they think most likely to draw anyone to it, the one they allowed easiest access to viewing.  In the north and west wings are the other two decoys.  No easy visual, but with the usual guards being replaced by others, with orders to perhaps not be so alert, and if approached with an offer of a bribe, to make themselves amenable.  Marco has had some of his friends make a foray or two, and it was no more challenging getting in there to take a look than convincing a toddler to exchange his dry biscuit for a sugar cookie."</p><p>"So the real one?" Garrison asked impatiently.</p><p>"In the rear of the museum cafe, in amongst the makings for the lunches and snacks the cafe still serves, or DID serve til the German put a stop to outside visitors taking a meal here, and that was only a few days ago!  Five small crates - here, give me a pencil, I'll show you the location and the markings."</p><p>"Brioche, Onions, Dried Salmon, Rye Bread, Crackers - in French, of course," Garrison mused, looking at the rough sketch she'd made.  "Yes, easy enough to overlook, considering the location.  He's sure?"</p><p>"Oh, yes, even though the top two layers ARE those particular food articles.  His people are very good at observation, they are very well trained, and they have every reason to be in every part of the building at one time or another.  And the pieces are very distinctive - he was too cautious to make a written list, but confirmed that my memory was accurate - good enough that I can recognize the descriptions and they match the information HQ gave you.  I don't know who prepared the shopping list, but they are very familiar with the museum's catalogue, obviously!  I imagine there has been considerable research made confirming just what pieces were most worth the effort.  This is certainly not a spur of the moment smash-and-grab operation!"</p><p>That was not all she'd learned, but she was still deciding how to deal with the rest of the information.  Just spilling it all to Garrison in one large dose would probably not be a good idea; the dear man would probably have an apoplexy on the spot!  Slow and steady, a dribble at a time might be best for the sake of his blood pressure.</p><p>"Does he know when and how they intend to take the pieces out?" Garrison demanded, already squinting with an effort to move those dots and lines in his mind into something workable.</p><p>She could see all the signs of a Garrison Special in the making - his mind worked quite differently than Goniff's, of course, but was no less interesting, either in the workings or in the results.  She was lucky in her associaton with the pair of them, she knew; after all, she DID hate to be bored and with those two around, not to mention the OTHER three men, she was in no danger of that.  </p><p>"The plans are supposedly outlined in a notebook the head man, Emil Liestrom, keeps in his jacket.  Liestrom is a hired professional, not a Hitler toady, but he is quite acomplished in his field or so Marco believes.  The odd thing, and something quite unexpected from one of his supposed expertise, is that jacket AND the notebook keep being discarded, ever so casually, here and there - on the back of a chair, on a sofa, on a coat rack - in his hotel room, in the dining room there, the bar, even when he visits here.  It is being treated SO carelessly I wouldn't place any reliance on the information it might contain, other than as a very generous offering of red herring.</p><p>"He also has been talking, far too much, to Colette, the very pretty secretary to the director.  I'd not count too much on what he's been letting slip, though; Colette is as sharp as a tack, and SHE says her eight year old nephew is more cunning in laying down a false trail.  That hardly seems what you'd expect from someone being put in charge of an operation of this magnitude, is it?  And Berger, the German?  HE has been equally attentive to Colette's friend, Ella, and Colette says it is almost like he is TRYING to drop important information in her ear!  Now, Berger, he IS a devotee, quite loyal to the German cause, if perhaps not as expert at this sort of operation as you would think woud have been assigned; I understand it WAS his brainstorm that started all this, so perhaps that is the explanation.  And perhaps he is just naturally talkative, or overly susceptible to Ella's feminine charms, trying to impress her.  Perhaps.  I have formed no firm opinion on that as of yet."</p><p>Garrison growled in annoyance, not understanding that look on the redhead's face.  "Well, none of that helps, except to . . ."  He paused, then watched that challenging lift of her brow and enlightenment came to him and he gave a quick laugh.  </p><p>"Except to rule out the red herrings, maybe!  Yes, let's find out what they're TRYING to tell us; that should let us eliminate some of the possibilities, anyway!  Goniff, how do you feel about a little fast finger work?"</p><p>And plans were made to get access to that little notebook, which meant Goniff was destined to playing dress-up in whatever uniforms would suit the purpose - waiter, bar man, cleaner - anything to get his hands on that notebook.  </p><p>Once he got back from that first outing, watched carefully from a corner of the bar by Garrison and Actor, Goniff reported that it couldn't have been much clearer that it was a fraud.  Frankly, it was a total waste of his talents, in his stated opinion; he figured even Casino could have managed that little job!  And as far as needing two nursemaids on an easy bit of work like that, well!!!  {"If this keeps up, Craig might as well just leave me at 'ome!  Can't always be sparing the others to try and babysit me, nevermind I don't NEED babysitting!"}</p><p>"No one even blinked an eye w'en I wandered near it; in fact, it was like everyone found something else real interesting to be looking at!  Gave it a good quick read off in the 'allway, and got the basics down for you, Lieutenant, before I tucked it back.  Blimey, 'e even wrote it all down in English along with French and German, just to be sure w'oever saw it got the message!  And yes, Actor, it all said pretty much the same thing; I might not be able to speak the lingo, but the words were simple enough I could make sense of it, and that should tell you something right there!  Now, just who does all that with something meant to remind YOURSELF of something, I ask you??!"</p><p>Garrison heard him out on all the details written down in that notebook, and nodded, "right, so we know when to expect the trucks, the various times, how each transfer is supposed to work.  For TWO of them, though, not all four, and certainly not the one we're after."</p><p>"And that makes sense, Craig," Actor offered.  "The oh-so-tempting one we saw and one other; they would expect us to be anticipating a decoy shipment, though perhaps only one.  That leaves the real shipment, plus one other decoy, just because their leader seems to be the belt-and-suspenders sort, much as you are."</p><p>"What about the broad, this Colette?  What did she pick up on, what did the guy let slip?  And the other one too, the German, the one after this Ella?" Casino asked.  </p><p>He wouldn't have minded meeting up with this Colette, asking her the questions direct; from what he'd heard, she was one cute dolly!  Maybe he'd spend a little time getting acquainted before he asked those questions even.  With Colette, maybe that Ella too.  They'd been busy as hell lately, and he hadn't had a chance to get lucky in way too long!  Hell, must be almost a month now, unless you wanted to count that time with Josie down at the bar, or Mia, the tea girl up at HQ, or whats-her-name, the checkout girl at the hotel in Bayside, or that cute little day-tripper passing through, or . . . </p><p>"The shipment of the goods we saw, plus the other one in the notebook.  Nothing on the other two possibilities, unfortunately," Meghada admitted.  "And neither lady has been on the work schedule since we arrived, so I've not had a chance to question either of them personally."</p><p>A quick offer from Casino to take care of that little matter was accepted for what it was worth.  Garrison evidently thought either he or Meghada should probably handle that task.   (Fate had different plans, however, as is so often the case!  Or maybe it was just Casino's turn to have Fate smile on him - or was that a leer?)</p><p>The immediate problem was, although Garrison had no real problem coming up with Plan A, as well as Plan B (just in case Plan A fizzled for some reason), he had the uncomfortable feeling he was the one being played, with those two primary plans maybe being someone ELSE'S as much as his own.</p><p>At first he'd looked at his team of wild card cons as being the source, but even if they WERE planning a strategic strike on what Goniff called "a lovely buffet of sparklies!", he didn't think it would have affected him in quite this manner.  The warning signals, those little 'tells' he got from THEIR shennanigans were quite different and picking up on those becoming second nature to him.</p><p>"Problems, Craig?" Actor asked, sipping at his coffee, watching the ripple of thought flash over the officer's face.  </p><p>"I'm not sure, Actor.  Just a feeling that I'm missing something.  A feeling that I'm - I don't know, maybe that I'm playing the wrong part in this.  Or maybe reading the script for a totally different play than what's actually scheduled." </p><p>Once again the officer took a thoughtful look around, ending with a questioning one at the tall conman.  Actor noted, and smiled in wry understanding.  He could hardly blame Garrison for being a little skeptical of their angels' wings, especially with a target this tempting!</p><p>"Hmmmm.  Well, I can assure you WE are not planning any outside move on that shipment!  You have my word on that.  Frankly, although it is quite tempting, the items in question are far too recognizeable to be of much benefit to anyone except a fervent collector or another museum.  No, we have no intention of making ourselves free with any part of it."</p><p>{"Not THAT shipment, anyway."} he left unsaid, although each of his teammates would have fully understood and agreed with that omission.</p><p>"Still . . . "</p><p>Garrison turned to the others, raising his voice above the quiet murmur he had been using.  He noted that the three men were having a quiet conversation, all with worried frowns on their faces.  </p><p>Meghada had a frown of her own, but it was more one of concentration; now THAT sent chills up his spine, knowing her thought patterns were as offbeat as Goniff's, though in very different ways.   {"Still, between the two, they'll probably have me gray before I'm another year older.  And if they don't manage it, the others will!"}</p><p>"Comments?  Ideas?  Anything?  I'm listening," he offered, getting startled looks in return.  Usually they had to push to get Garrison to really look at things from a different point of view; for him to be asking, that meant he had more than a few doubts of his own.</p><p>Casino was the one to break the silence.  "Just, seems too easy , ya know?"</p><p>That got him a few quiet snorts of laughter, and he nodded in wry agreement.  "Yeah, so maybe not EASY, not with this many moving parts, but something just sets wrong with the whole setup."</p><p>Chief nodded.  "He's right, Warden.  Got a creepy feeling, right between my shoulders.  Like I was telling them, feels like I'm out somewhere setting a snare for a nice juicy rabbit, while there's someone just up ahead setting a bear trap for me."</p><p>Garrison's eyes sharpened.  "That's it, exactly!  Maybe not a trap to catch us, necessarily, but a trap to fool us long enough to have the mission fail!  A con job, with us on the receiving end!  Meghada, Actor - you both know DeReighn.  Any chance he's playing us?"</p><p>Actor hesitated, then replied.  "Anything is possible, Craig.  Perhaps they have some hold over him I am unaware of.  However, he has made this museum, its treasures, his life's work.  It would take something of immense importance to make him betray that."</p><p>"Politics can do that," Garrison remarked dryly.  "And then again, there's money - I imagine the Germans would be willing to offer a pretty penny for his cooperation.  They might not DELIVER, but they'd be willing to promise, I'm sure."</p><p>"Perhaps, Craig, but I found no hint of any such thing, and Marco has been an intimate of our Family for over sixty years," Meghada assured him, that getting a few odd looks from everyone, especially Actor.  "He is trusted at the very highest levels, and if nothing else, would be well aware of the price for betrayal, especially now that he knows I am involved.</p><p>"Is he intelligent enough to con us?  Oh, yes, certainly.  WOULD he do so?  As Actor said, it would take something of immense importance, and politics would not fit that bill.  Perhaps to defend someone's life, yes; the lives of his employees here, maybe, but I must say, I found no hesitation, no shadow in his eyes or in his manner that would give me even a hint of that.  His 'life-partner', if you will, is highly placed within Clan O'Donnell and is well protected, is in no danger.  Add to that, he has known me since I was born, knows I'm no gentle babe to be safely managed.  I do not see him so easily betraying me, under any circumstances."</p><p>"Then could it be that HE is being conned?"</p><p>"A triple game?  Hmmmmm, that is possible, of course, though Marco is a crafty devil.  HQ didn't have much information on this Liestrom who is in charge of the operation, unfortunately.  It would be helpful to know what sort of a reputation he has, his record," Actor interjected.</p><p>Garrison's eyes got that distant, glazed look the team knew so well, and they all just shrugged and settled back to their coffee, figuring they'd know the plan soon enough.  {"Maybe too soon to suit us much, knowing the Warden,"} Casino thought to himself with a snort.</p><p>Finally, "Meghada, Goniff - memorize the items in those four collections, making sure to keep them grouped together.   Yeah, I know it's a lot, but do it anyway.  I want to know if they start swapping things around, and without having to have Marco verify anything.  I'm still not sure about how far we can trust him.</p><p>"Casino, take a good look inside the museum's safe and records, Marco's office.  Probably he's on the up-and-up - - probably.  But I want to know anything that might hint of anything else.</p><p>"Chief, scout out their transportation - what they have here, any hint there may be more waiting in the wings.  I want descriptions, identification numbers, anything else that would cue us to any red herrings.  If there isn't anything to distinguish them, make sure there IS when we need it.</p><p>"Move it!"</p><p>The two men tapped for the jobs hurried off to do their leader's bidding, leaving the others behind.</p><p>Actor raised a regal brow.  "And you, Craig?  And me?  What will we be doing?"</p><p>Garrison gave a knowing smile, "if I remember correctly, Uncle Jake mentioned having a contact in Bayonne.  It's been awhile, but he just might still be around and might be able to fill in some of the blanks.  Jake always said if there was anything of interest, at any level, this was the guy who'd know about it."</p><p>Actor was intrigued.  "Anyone I might know, or know of?  I have spent a considerable amount of time in Bayonne on various occasions."</p><p>Garrison let that smile turn into a wicked grin.  "I wouldn't be a bit surprised, Actor.  This Rouget is the sophisticated sort, cuts a wide swath through the fair womanhood of Europe, or at least he always did, according to Uncle Jake.  Not that he necessarily . . . ".  Garrison hesitated, then let the sentence drift into space.  That Auguste Rouget didn't always confine himself to Europe OR the fairer sex really wasn't relevant.</p><p>A laugh of pure amusement fell from the tall Italian's lips.  "Rouget?  Auguste Rouget, perhaps??  Oh my heavens, I haven't shared a glass of wine with that reprobate in at least five years - no, more like eight or nine.  We considered ourselves friends, but I'm afraid we parted company on rather a tense note.  Not bad blood, mind you, just a bit of a rivalry.  Something about a redhead.  The exact details escape me at this moment, but it was most assuredly a redhead.  He did have rather strong leanings in that direction, possibly accounting for his taking the name Rouget as a sobriquet.</p><p>"Actually, I wasn't all that enthralled with the redhead, as I recall, but since Auguste had gotten the better of me over a sweet little brunette named Lisette some months prior, I felt it a matter of honor to best him for the redhead.  He did not take it well, I'm afraid, and in the end, the redhead chose him after all.  Ah, me, such times we had!"</p><p>He thought it best not to mention that the young Scottish/French redhead had been a delectable 6'6" or so, built like a young Milo of Croton, with a flaming red beard-and-moustache combination styled in what Auguste had teased was the 'lumberjack' look. </p><p>{"What was his name, the redhead?  Ah, yes - David.  David Armand Lanaghan.  I wonder what ever became of the dear boy?  Probably back in the Scottish Highlands, ruling over a clan with an iron fist and iron sword, swilling whiskey by the barrel.  So delightfully uncouth, a little on the barbaric side, although in a most attractive manner.  Why I found that rather appealing in him then, and now find similar behavior so offputting in Meghada and her siblings . . ."}</p><p>He glanced over at the redhead sitting at the table now and wondered at that twitch at the side of her mouth, the downcast eyes keeping him from reading the expression there.  There was just something faintly troubling there, though he wasn't sure what.  He quickly shrugged off the only thought he had as being so unlikely as to have the odds be astronomically against it.  {"For her to know, be on comfortable terms with Marco is one thing; for her also to know Auguste?  No, absolutely not!  They would hardly frequent the same circles!"}</p><p> </p><p>Garrison and Actor had made their way to the entrance of a rather elegant townhouse in a neighborhood well furnished with such establishments and rang the bell.  They had their stories straight, were confident this should go easily enough.  Just another day, just another con job - nothing unusual.  </p><p>"Carlo!  What a surprise!  It has been far too long!  And you've brought a guest!" was the fulsome greeting Actor received from Auguste Rouget as they were ushered in by the bland-faced servant, but somehow that welcome lost some of its innocent spontaneity when the tall burly redhead just coming in from another room followed that statement with his own.</p><p>"Well, it's about time!  We expected you hours ago!  It's one thing to let the wine breathe, but this just might be on its last gasp by now!  I may be part Scot but I trust I am enough French to deplore such a tragic mishandling of a fine wine!  Did you forget the address, Carlo?  Or are we to call you Actor now?  Ach, well, what is in a name, after all?  Sometimes I quite forget my own, I must admit.  And this HAS to be Lieutenant Craig Garrison!  We've been looking forward to meeting you; quite the reputation you are gathering, you know, in any number of circles.  And how are things at the museum?  Your people keeping themselves busy?"</p><p>A bottle of wine was held carefully in the crook of his arm, the stems of four wine glasses clasped between his fingers.  Garrison gave Actor a wry look; yes, obviously they had been expected.  Just as obviously, they could scrap the con they'd so carefully constructed.  Well, perhaps it wasn't all a total loss; from the look on his second-in-command's face, he was pretty sure Actor needed a drink as badly as HE did!</p><p>"But I am disappointed that you didn't bring dear Meghada with you, Lieutenant Garrison!" the broad-shouldered man with just a trace of a Scottish acent chastised him gently.  "Oh, well, I'm sure she's making profitable use of her time; she generally does.  Please be sure to tell her Dal sends his very best."</p><p>Garrison suppressed a groan at that; surely he already had enough complications without a connection between the two redheads!  But it would appear Fate did not agree.</p><p>Auguste, taking control once again from his younger, more voluable, companion, though admittedly with some difficulty, growled, "you can tell her Dal sends his kind REGARDS, Lieutenant; his BEST is already spoken for, as I am sure Carlo, ah, Actor, can tell you.  That was resolved quite some time ago, eh, old friend?"</p><p>Actor was still trying to shake himself out of his shock at finding David Lanaghan in residence, much less hearing that calm 'dear Meghada' comment.  {"Complications on top of complications!"}</p><p>Neither man felt any less apprehensive when, after they were all seated with a glass in their hands, Auguste had smiled and proclaimed, "and we simply must bring you up to date regarding Emil Liestrom, as he is calling himself for the moment, and his side of this little project!  I am sure you will find it all most amusing, especially you, Lieutenant Garrison.  It has been mentioned by someone who knows you both quite well that you and he really are two of a kind in so many ways!  This should be quite an invigorating experience for us all, and in such a worthy cause!"</p><p>The lowdown on the man in charge of the museum job after Auguste finished revealing all he knew (well, at least PART of what he knew!) had Actor highly amused in spite of himself.  Afterwards he quietly admitted as much, even as he acknowledged that Garrison hadn't seemed nearly as amused at any of what had been revealed.</p><p>"Good grief, Craig!  You simply must see the humor in all of this!  And above all else, this man impersonating Emil Liestrom??  From what Auguste just told us, he IS you, but with dark hair and a French accent!  Right down to the three-dimensional mental chess and 'while we're here' attitude.  If he were firmly on their side, the Nazi's might have a chance of winning this war after all!!  But somehow?  I have a feeling, from what Auguste was saying, whoever he is working with, IF it is anyone other than himself, that someone is not centered in Berlin!"</p><p>(When Garrison engineered a private meeting with Liestrom (or was it the other way around?), he got confirmation of Actor's suspicions.  He also got the beginnings of a major headache, and a sincere yearning to bang his head against a handy doorframe.)</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Chief had found his way easily to the rear entrance.  </p><p>{"Funny how I haven't had to duck and hide; haven't even run across anyone to worry about avoiding.  Any voices, they just don't come close.  Seems like everybody's headed in the opposite direction all the time."}. </p><p>He had a feeling whoever was in the place was just as intent on avoiding him, maybe the rest of the team, as he and the guys were on avoiding THEM.  Not for the first time he wished he could back up, get a bird's eye view of the whole place at once, see who was doing what, like sometimes he figured Garrison seemed to be able to do.</p><p>Once on the outside, he slipped into the dark alleyway behind the museum, then struck out to explore.  There had to be trucks somewhere close, at least that was the information Meghada had brought back from her meeting with the curator.  {"Four shipments.  That means four trucks, unless the stuff is small enough to be loaded into something like a jeep or a staff car.  Still, if they're gonna try and confuse us, four different ways to get the stuff out of here.  Shouldn't be that hard to spot."}</p><p>And it wasn't.  Four identical trucks, two streets over.  Parked in a nice neat row.  NO guards posted, except one uniformed guy dozing half a block away in an alcove that kept the night wind off.  </p><p>{"One guard, not paying any attention at all.  That's not right, even if nothing's been loaded yet."}</p><p>His mind kept flickering over the image of a bear trap and he kept at full alert while moving closer.  Frowning, getting a funny feeling between his shoulder blades, he glanced upward, wondering where the others were.  He knew there was at least one more, somewhere, probably in one of the upper windows of the surrounding buildings.</p><p>He kept to the shadows, thinking over his options.  Then, on inspiration, he dropped all the way back and used some of the second story stuff Goniff had taught him to reach higher ground.  In this case, a hotel that had obviously seen better days, but was taller than anyplace else he could reach quickly, but too far away to be the likely spot for that extra watcher, whoever he was.</p><p>Now in place on top of a bare rooftop, sighting through the handy breaks in the quarter wall at the top, {"crenulations, Actor calls them."} he found what he was looking for.  There, off to the north, tucked into a narrow alleyway just off the main street, there was another truck, this one with two guards pacing around.  Very ALERT guards, unlike the one he'd seen earlier.  Glancing back toward the small convoy, he made up his mind.  THIS was where he needed to be looking, at least to begin with; the other trucks could wait.  Oh, he'd get to those; he could hardly go back to Garrison without doing that, without maybe doing a little more than that, but it would wait til he figured out how to get a look in THIS truck.</p><p>It had taken some fancy footwork, along with the happy happenstance of a roving street vendor - a pretty girl offering the guards a taste of her wares - pastry, coffee and maybe a little else from the looks of it.  Luckily for Chief's purposes, the pastry and coffee were the main consideration so far, and he was able to get a good look inside the truck before their attention shifted.  </p><p>The arrival of the replacement guards prevented the duo and the girl from taking their business inside the shelter of one of the trucks, the girl seeming to prefer the small drinking establishment a couple of streets away to continue their newfound friendship.  The new guards were much more alert, and Chief counted himself lucky to have gotten a chance to browse those ever-so-interesting boxes lined up behind the truck cab.  He'd been careful to mark that truck in several discreet ways so he could spot it easily when he needed to later.</p><p>{"Now, back to those other trucks before the Warden comes looking for me!"}</p><p>And those four trucks were just as interesting as the lone vehicle, if not in the same manner.  Magnetic id numbers, front and back, stacked in a set of brackets screwed to the metal framework up under the tailgate, well out of casual view, enabling a quick changeover to fool anyone trying to follow them.  The trucks also each had three layers of canvas tied over their canopy arches, all with different but quite distinctive markings, able to be changed in just a couple of minutes and probably while on the move, which would serve much the same purpose of confusing any observer.</p><p>Chief grinned in the darkness, picturing those trucks moving through the city streets, then the countryside, switching identities time after time, like one giant-scale shell game.  </p><p>{"Penny, penny, where's the penny - all on wheels.  Figure we'll find the Warden trying to use all that sometime; it has his feel to it."}.  </p><p>That thought made him pause and reflect, the idea that whoever was in charge was capable of being as crafty as Garrison was an uncomfortable notion.  That would point to maybe this being even more complicated than any of them would be happy with.  But then he shrugged, gathering his focus on getting back to their safe quarters and report on all he'd discovered.</p><p>{"Nah, there's nobody like the Warden; don't have to worry about that!"}</p><p> </p><p>Talk about boring!   Casino was ready to yawn with boredom!  Three twiddles and he was through the mechanism and into the ancient safe, not that there was much of interest in there.  </p><p>He ran his eyes over it one last time, having double-checked to be sure that's all there was - a pitiful amount of money labeled 'Groceries', so tiny he was half-way tempted to pull a few bills out of his own pocket to increase the total.  A small well-worn book of romantic and highly erotic poetry inscribed in a bold handwriting to "Marco - for while we are apart, to keep the fires of our passion burning true.  Goldie - Spring, 1893".  And a wide bronze ring with tiny letters inside proclaiming 'M-forever mine, G-forever yours.  And don't you forget it, you old scoundrel! Spring, 1921'</p><p>He chuckled softly, figuring that 'Goldie' had to be something really special!  His respect for the aging curator went up by several notches, though he wondered if 'Goldie' was still around and if that 'forever mine, forever yours' stuff was still solid.  A cynical part of his soul wanted to scoff at the notion, but he found himself smiling, kinda hoping it was still true.</p><p>The desk had delivered nothing more promising than a depressingly constricted budget plan for the following month; the file cabinet held the records of business correspondence, nothing that he could see would be of any benefit to Garrison.  </p><p>The long card box might be of some use, since it held the records of the various acquisitions the museum had made since its origin, but it was too bulky to make away with easily, being one of the sorts three sections wide and a good four foot long.   </p><p>He rummaged through at random, figuring Garrison would like to know the setup in case he wanted to come take a look for himself.  Pretty straightforward shit, as far as Casino could tell.  Item, description, date, stuff like that.  Some of the cards had been annotated 'Item 472 moved to storage due to damage by visiting royalty, aka Prince Idiot of The First Degree', 'Item 293 traded to J. K. in exchange for LXV 429J - see separate card;  'Item 837 discovered to be a forgery upon arrival - returned to seller for a full refund plus penalty charged, along with a stern reprimand on such foolishness.  Obituary of seller in main file under 'Unreliable Sources - Inactive'.  </p><p>Casino chuckled at that last bit; obviously the curator had a sense of humor, if a rather deadly one, if he was reading that right.  He probably should mention that to Garrison, just in case.</p><p> </p><p>Goniff and Meghada were left alone in the small room.  He cast a knowing eye over the lists Meghada had compiled, pursed his lips in consideration.  </p><p>"Lovely bit of dash, all considered.  Anything strike your fancy in particular?  Could see w'at I could arrange by way of a little shopping," he suggested brazenly, with a sly grin accompanied by a brisk flexing of his eyebrows.</p><p>She gave him a reproving look, though not a very intense one.  After all, it hadn't been a serious offer, she knew that.  He DID try (not always successfully, of course) not to disregard a direct order from Craig about such things - especially when there were equally tempting alternatives like with this job.</p><p>"Now what would Craig say to us going shopping here?  You know how he gets!  Besides, little of this is really my style, you know.  Best we focus on getting it all down firm in our heads, like Craig suggested."</p><p>"Like you 'aven't already?  That's w'ere the ruddy lists came from in the first place, right?   You think I don't know why Actor is off gallivanting with Craig, why Chief and Casino are out slipping around doing their bit w'ile we're stuck 'ere in this room?  I know w'at Craig is up to; ain't stupid, you know.  'E aint fooling me, and can't believe 'e's pulling the wool over your eyes neither."</p><p>While he understood, or at least thought he understood PART of it,  and on some level was gratified, still, he didn't much like being treated like he was made of bone china or something.  He may have been the intended target of that attack in London, but he hadn't been the ultimate victim.  And from what Cam Madison had found out, could have been any of them who got dead, not just him!</p><p>Meghada nodded ruefully.  Yes, she'd thought Goniff might have picked up on the hovering Craig was doing, mentally if not physically, with the others not far behind.  Even Actor was acting more protective than usual.  And this probably was not the best time to remind Goniff that he frequently did more than his own share of hovering - over Garrison, the guys, even over her when he felt it necessary.  No, she figured he wouldn't take that well at all, most likely telling her his usual "but that's DIFFERENT!".</p><p>"Aye, I know what you're thinking.  I even understand why you would find it a little annoying."</p><p>And she did, would have felt much the same, though she found it telling that while they supposedly BOTH were missing for awhile, Craig wasn't hovering over HER now, trying to keep her out of the line of fire.  Well, a mutilated look-alike for her hadn't been tossed at Garrison's feet, but she knew that was only part of the reason for the current hovering around the pickpocket.  She could hardly cast blame; still, it was obvious it wasn't going over well.</p><p>"But you know, Craig's right in having you do this part, when it comes down to it.  SOMEONE other than just me needs to know what's what with this stuff."</p><p>He sighed, admitting the truth to that, but still not liking being the one stuck with the job.  Not that he didn't relish spending time with Meghada, but this wouldn't have been his preferred way of spending the time.  And the others were out and about, in danger, while here he was sitting in a safe (well, maybe, sort-of safe) place, doing what amounted to paper work, not even there to keep an eye on them, watch out for trouble.  That rubbed him the wrong way, especially that last look Garrison had given him, like the man was wanting reassurance that Goniff was still there, would really stay put, stay out of the line of fire.  {"Since w'en aint I up to hauling my share of the load??!  Criminy, this is going to get old fast if 'e keeps this up!  Next thing, 'e'll be finding reasons not to bring me along in the first place!  Maybe 'ave me take up lodgings in with the Reverend or something; maybe take up knitting!"}</p><p>She could see he was on the verge of brooding about the whole 'being protected' thing,but really, she knew he WASN'T thinking it through.  Who else WOULD Craig have chosen from the players available to him?  Now, just to convince Goniff.</p><p>"So if he HAD sent you out on one of the other jobs - ordered someone else for this part - which one would it have been?  None of the jobs the guys were sent out on were make-work, you know.  It all needed to be done.  Which job would you have taken over?  Maybe pop that safe, instead of Casino?  They changed the combination, so it's not the one Marco could have given us.  You've picked up a lot from Casino, but would it be enough to get in and out as quickly as he can?  You think you would be able to figure out the ins and outs of the trucks and other transport and such, better than Chief can do?  Gone with Craig to front this Auguste in his den, done more to convince a man who used to be an old drinking comrade of Actor's than the great man himself?  </p><p>"And, think.  Which of them would have been better at THIS chore than you?  Would Garrison have sent one of them out on a sticky-fingers job?  Here, for this, YOU are the best choice.  You've a keen eye where the sparklies are concerned, a good memory for the details, and you understand me and my ways better than the others do.  You and I, we're a better team for this sort of thing than I'd manage with any of the others, you KNOW that!  Oh, Actor could have done the remembering, but since I probably would have had to kill him before the job was done, that woud hardly have suited the purpose!"</p><p>That seemed to turn his mood away from feeling affronted back to being enthusiastic, and they focused on the job at hand.  They spent the time memorizing, of course but also doing a little brainstorming - the 'what if's', one rather cunning 'wouldn't it be interesting if', one or two 'I wonder how they'd react if's', and ultimately . . .</p><p>"So, you said you saw the w'ole collection at one time or another.  This bloke in charge, Emil, 'E might be an expert, know w'at 'e's looking at, but 'ow about the rest of them?  Just 'ow likely is it that 'e's brought along equally sharp eyes?  Maybe they're just strong backs and trigger fingers, eh?  You already said this Berger don't seem to 'ave much of a notion, taking their word, Marco and Emil, along with checking the catalogue, even if 'e's the one reporting back to Berlin.  And from w'at you told me, that catalogue aint as much on the up-and-up as you might expect; that it LOOKED old and tattered enough, but wasn't as real as this Berger would expect, at least in some respect."</p><p>Well, that was true enough, about the catalogue.  Marco had only laughed when, years ago after a self-guided tour with the pamphlet in hand, she'd challenged him on the faded, sometimes blurry photographs, noting the discrepancies between the photos of the most precious exhibits and the descriptions underneath.  Close, yes, in many cases, but not precise, certainly not enough for anyone to make a replica for whatever purpose.  Sometimes it was just a bad photo, blurred or from an unfortunate angle - sometimes it was a photo of something else, something quite similar to the description but still different.  In any case, quite misleading.  </p><p>As Marco had explained over coffee, "ah, my sharp-eyed Dragon, now not everyone needs to be knowing EVERYTHING, you see.  No sense getting anyone to yearning over what they can't have, now is there?  Or getting foolishness started without me or my staff being able to spot it right up front.  The catalogue is enough to satisfy any eyes less discerning than your own, and that is sufficient for the purpose.  I've had some experts who've come through here and not seen as much as your sharp eyes."</p><p>Now, Meghada narrowed those sharp eyes suspiciously.  With a smile quirking at her mouth, she prodded at the Englishman to let out whatever it was that was making him grin like that.  Goniff's mind was, to her estimation, a wonderous thing, unlike any other she'd encountered -  she didn't always understand HOW it worked, but she did love trying to figure it out, and the results of such workings were usually interesting, to say the least.</p><p>"So?  If they are?"</p><p>He shrugged, "just thinking about mice.  Seen lots of signs around; well, you know 'ow mice are in an old building.  Dashing 'ere and there; not so easy to spot, but always busy, doing w'atever.  Maybe there's some akin to a packrat as much as to a mouse.  Some of that w'atever they're doing might be moving a few things around, maybe taking something that don't look all that different, but IS, you know, putting it down w'ere someone might mistake it for something else.  Been a lot of that going around, no reason there couldn't be a bit more.  Sides, been called a squirrel or a monkey more than once; being a mouse aint that much of a stretch."</p><p>She thought it had considerable merit.  She DID remember a lot from those visits, enough she thought she might be able to come up with some reasonable substitutes, and so pulled the lists back in front of her, focusing particularly on their target.  Well, wasn't that what had been done with that show in the skylight room, substitute likely pieces for the targeted ones?  Two could play at that game - well, maybe three or more.</p><p> </p><p>The meeting with Rouget had taken enough time that both Chief and Casino were already back in the small room hidden within the museum when Garrison and Actor had returned.  From the laughter on their faces, whatever had gone down with their side of the job had gone well, perhaps better than Garrison's foray.  As it turned out, all four of those awaiting Garrison and Actor had some quite interesting things to share, including the notion that there there were no longer four shipments to be considered in the planning, but now a total of five. </p><p>Meghada explained, showing Garrison the relevant two lists, what they'd been sent after and the other possibility.</p><p>"I think Goniff has something.  Just think, Craig.  They may be keeping a close eye on the decoys, expecting notice to be taken there, expecting maybe some tampering, or even a full out assult.  We can do some poking around those, just to convince them we're taking the bait.  But the real thing?  All tucked away in those boxes in the kitchen with the pantry-ware stencils on the outside?  Do you think they're opening and closing those all that often?  If anything, the man in charge would surely be concerned that much activity would draw attention he could well do without.  Once something was switched out, by us, let's say, what are the odds of it being discovered before we're out and gone with the goods?  Think how nice it would be to just let Berger TAKE those boxes, let the decoy trucks go on their way without interference.  Wouldn't it be nice to have a job that didn't involve flying bullets for a change?"</p><p>Goniff chimed in, "so, if a sly mouse or two got busy, pulling something fairly close and popping it in, even if they ARE looking, doubt they're unpacking and doing a full tally each time.  If they DO look, most likely they're checking to see things look pretty much like they did before, right?  Not checking for the upclose details or anything.  It could work, Lieutenant, and 'Gaida's right, it would be nice not to 'ave to go patching up bullet 'oles in you, maybe the others, at least for once.  You get to missing that part, there's always next time out."</p><p>Garrison heard them out; he was obviously intrigued by the possibilities, but reluctant to put them at risk carrying it out.  He particularly wasn't happy about Goniff sneaking around, pretending to be a mouse.  </p><p>The sudden vision of a giant mousetrap laying in wait in the shadows for any such industrious mouse came to his mind, sending his stomach roiling in response.  He visibly winced at the harsh SNAP!!! the triggered spring lever of such a trap would make, the results on one slender body.  The final vision, a sprung trap, the broken body sprawled underneath, blue eyes staring into nothingness was one he pushed away with sheer willpower.</p><p>{"Garrison, pull yourself together.  This isn't getting you anywhere, and Goniff saw that wince; it looks like he's ready to slap you upside the head.  HE'S ready to get to work and expects you to do the same!  He's not going to thank you for trying to put him in cotton wool, all because you got a scare and a subsequent case of nerves."}</p><p>Casino was scoffing at the idea of Goniff-as-sly-mouse.  "Admit no one could much tell the difference; look pretty much the same to me.  But I gotta question his motives, ya know?  Whatta ya bet he's just wanting to get out and scare up some bread and cheese for a snack!".   </p><p>Secretly, though, he was jealous that HE hadn't thought of it first.  In fact, he thought it could be one hell of a lot of fun, IF none of them got caught.  He figured he could do a little 'mousin' around' himself, maybe even get another look at that Colette dame.  He'd take that, maybe a chance for a little one-on-one, over bread and cheese any day!</p><p>Actor felt much the same enthusiasm, though he hid it better.  There was no sense of giving their pickpocket an elevated view of just how intriguing that idea was; that would only subject them to a bevy of other so-called 'brilliant' ideas.  And while HE  might be far too large to be a mouse, at least he would have a better idea of what they should be looking for, recognizing it when he found it, certainly more than anyone else in the room!  </p><p>He covered by openly doubting that the museum HAD enough comparable pieces, enough that could be mistaken even by the unknowing eye, although no one was more aware than he as to the flotsam and jetsam such places had floating around in the basement and other out of the way places.  </p><p>{"Yes, an interesting concept, even if it DID come from Goniff.  It could prove quite promising."}</p><p>Chief just sat back, finding their reactions so typical of each man as to be highly amusing.  He was looking forward to the time when he had some time alone with the guys, to let them know what HE'D found on his little expedition.  {"Four shipments, then five shipments, now maybe six shipments.  We're gonna need our own shipping company, more trucks, a name and logo and everything, if this keeps up!"}.  If the others wondered a little at the snort of amusement coming from the Indian, no one questioned him on it.  Not then, anyway.</p><p>Soon Meghada and Garrison headed off to confer with Marco on a few obscure details that, for some reason, Garrison thought the man should have mentioned earlier.  And considering what Rouget had said, he figured Marco should be able to set up a meeting with Emil Liestrom or whoever the man was, which was something ELSE Garrison felt was long overdue.  He really wasn't used to dancing to someone else's tune, much preferred to lead the orchestra himself.</p><p>Chief took advantage of that absence to brief the team on what else he'd found, and they agreed, Garrison really didn't need to know about all that.</p><p>After all, as Chief remarked laconically at the end, "you know the Warden.  He'd probably just as soon not be distracted from his planning by 'inconsequential superfluities', like Actor is calling what I found."</p><p>Goniff snickered, "you mean those cases of stuff the bloke stole from somew'ere else on 'is way 'ere?  All that fancy jewelry and gold trinkets?  Things like that?"</p><p>Casino nodded sagely, "yeah, shit like that.  Just like Beautiful said, 'inconsequential superfluities', nothing we need to be confusing the Warden with.  We need to let the man focus on the job; we can handle anything that needs doing about that extra load, right, guys?"</p><p> </p><p>Taking Goniff's idea and running with it, each team member set their sights on a couple, three items from that handy list Meghada had put together.  Nothing was due to be shipped out for another three or four days, so they had time, but there was no sense in leaving things to the last minute in case Berger's schedule got moved up.</p><p>Actor headed for the gallery that specialized in written works, set on retrieving a supposedly 'rare manuscript' that Meghada swore was a forgery; it should be close enough to substitute for the truly rare manuscript now held in the pantry under the label of 'smoked salmon'.  They were the same size, even supposedly in similar carved wooden boxes, which should make things even simpler.  </p><p>Goniff had gleefully set off for the 'oddments' collection in a darkened room shielded from the sun by dark green draperies; from what that catalogue showed, those would be right up his alley, and besides, he had thought of a lovely idea for one particular figurine Meghada had told him about from a set of such curiosities.  It would mean snipping a bit or two of Casino's hair while the man was asleep, but the results would well be worth the risk in HIS estimation.  </p><p>Meghada had her eye on a possible substitute for the priceless chess set now secreted in that box of supposed food-goods, a set that any collector would have paid several fortunes to possess and still not approached its real value.  She seemed to remember there was something similar in the 'what were they thinking!' storeroom in the catacombs below.  Wouldn't it be a giggle for Hitler to reach for that ancient ivory chess king, renowed for its expression of regal and imperious wisdom, and find in its stead that tea-dyed stone carving of a chess king complete with a tilted crown and the face of a brain-snarled infant apparently filling its diaper?  The pieces from the two sets were of the same dimensions; she could substitute the novel pieces inside the ivory storage box of the original and most likely no one would open it ahead of time.</p><p>And there would be no one to chide her away from that either.  It seems none of the guys were all that eager to explore down there, the idea of the human remains still quite visible, though partially embedded in the catacomb walls, being offputting to them for some reason. She shrugged, {"Outlanders.  Even these ones that I care about so much, I have a hard time understanding sometimes!"}</p><p>Casino and Chief had been intent on their current task of emulating a pair of industrious mice, with the object of retrieving one gilt framed miniature by an inferior artist and exchanging it for another, far more valuable, now tucked away in that Rye Bread container in the museum's pantry.  It shouldn't have been much of a challenge or taken too long, at least until Berger, Liestrom and two of his henchmen showed up, accompanied by a protesting DeReighn.  </p><p>Berger, Liestrom and DeReighn had disappeared into a room a few doors down from where Casino and Chief had taken shelter at the sound of approaching voices.  The men accompanying them had set up camp in the hallway outside, effectively trapping Garrison's men where they were.  From the view they had through the tiny crack near the hinges of the door, no one was going anywhere for quite some time - cards and a bottle and a sack of sandwiches had made their way to the small table between the two, and jackets had been discarded and draped over the back of their chairs.</p><p>"Now what?" Chief asked in a voice hardly louder than a breath, annoyed at the quick sortee turning into a fiasco within minutes.  They might have some leeway, but sooner or later Garrison was going to be chomping at the bit when they didn't return on time.</p><p>"Hell, why ask me?" Casino whispered, just as annoyed.  He'd been hoping to get this part of the job finished early, maybe try and convince Garrison to let him have a try at teasing some intel out of Colette.</p><p>A faint hiss behind them had them whirling around silently, hands reaching for their weapons.  The sight of a pretty young woman - blonde, robust, smiling, Colette by the description they'd been given - let them relax a little, Casino much more so than Chief, since Chief was actually able to think with both heads at the same time, which wasn't always the case with his teammate.</p><p>Still, that whispered, "quick, through here!" beckoned them onward and through a panel they could have sworn hadn't been there a minute ago.  Onward, down a short back passageway, ending at the cozy bedroom Colette and Ella shared.  </p><p>It was obvious the ladies had a few ideas about how to spend the time til those guards left.  And if Chief, at least, had a few qualms about what Garrison was going to think about this little adventure, Casino had none!  Luck had smiled on him and he had no intention of snubbing the Lady!  Not when he got a look at the impressive way Colette's blouse strained against her generous breasts, nor the way Ella had quite a few attributes of her own worth noting.  </p><p>In fact, he was undecided which of the women deserved his attentions more, though from the way Colette was walking her fingers up the middle of his chest and the way dark-haired Ella was almost purring in the Indian's ear, the ladies were pretty sure of the playing field and had already selected partners.</p><p>Now, a while later, Casino smiled in satisfaction as he felt the silky body under his, felt her gasping for breath in the aftermath of one hell of a good workout.  Yeah, Colette was one hot dame, that was for sure!  He spared a glance over to the bed on the opposite wall.  Sure looked like the Indian had done alright for himself too, puffing like a train engine both him and that pretty little Ella!</p><p>Reluctantly the safecracker rolled over on his back and took a glance at his watch.    As soon as they caught their breath, they should probably check to see if those guards were gone yet.  They still had a job to do, and the night wasn't getting any younger.  In the meantime, he'd just close his eyes, maybe get his bearings.</p><p>He roused to the feel of smooth feminine skin caressing him, a knowing hand tracing his muscles, felt himself respond.  Opening his eyes to tell Colette that he was really sorry but it'd have to wait cause they needed to get a move on, he stopped.  {"Not Colette.  Ella.  Shit, how's a man supposed to say no to that??!"}</p><p>He glanced over and saw that Colette was busy getting Chief interested in another round, and obviously succeeding quite nicely.  He hadn't expected that to be so stimulating, watching a dame do another guy, but now he couldn't turn his eyes away.  Colette was talented, alright, in all kinds of ways, and she was using every one of those ways on the man spread out on that rumpled bed.  </p><p>He tried to drag his attention back to Ella, now riding astride him, but found his eyes kept drifting back to the action on the other bed.  Finally, he didn't even bother looking up at the woman atop him, just caressed her absently while he watched, enthralled, as Chief finally heaved upward and over, putting himself on top of a panting Colette, her now on all fours on the bed.  Somehow they'd gotten twisted around so both Chief and Colette were facing the bed Casino was on, and obeying some wild impulse, he twisted away from Ella and positioned them into the mirror image of what he was seeing.</p><p>The air was thick with passion and heat, and the two men strove, grunting with the necessity for satisfying their need, the women no less eager.  They could see each other, if they focused, there facing each other on the swaying beds - the women on hands and knees with their heads thrown back, panting for air, the men crouched over them, laboring in the dim light.  </p><p>Casino's vision had narrowed, though, no longer able to see Ella beneath him, or Colette on the bed opposite.  No, all he could see were dark eyes burning into his, a familiar face flushed with passion, chest streaming with sweat, body moving to a rhythm that shook Casino to his very soul, a rhythm he found himself matching instinctively.  </p><p>He heard Colette shriek softly, then Ella, knowing he could finish anytime now, but somehow waiting.  Then he saw what he had been waiting for, the wild grimace on Chief's face, the final thrust being made, and he gave in, let himself find his own fulfillment.  He watched through bleary eyes, blinking away the sweat, as Chief's face relaxed, that taut body slump forward, pulling Colette down into the covers with him.  {"Shit!  I am in so much frickin' trouble here!!"} he thought as he felt his body follow suit.  {"So frickin' much trouble!"}</p><p>This time when they awoke, it was to the two women urging them up and out, telling them that the guards had left.  They made it to their destination, grabbed what they'd been sent for and scurried back to the safe place, to be greeted with excited inquiries from Actor and Goniff.  They'd barely gotten cleaned up and were having a much needed drink when Garrison appeared.  Any questions from Garrison were answered quickly and briefly by the safecracker.  "Yeah, we saw some movement around, but the guards didn't see us.  Yeah, we got what we were looking for."</p><p>It wasn't til later that Garrison got wise, and he didn't hold back from the lecture, much to the amusement of everyone except Casino and Chief.  For some reason, though, Casino wasn't doing the usual bragging like the guys were expecting.  Well, Chief didn't, much, but Casino did like to make a big deal of any such encounters.  This time?  Not so much.</p><p> </p><p>And so the next two days passed, busy mice scurrying here and there, avoiding Berger as the German tried to oversee the loading of the cases.  Tried to oversee, but not being as successful as he would have liked, Emil Liestrom reminding him at every opportunity that HE was the one hired for this job and it was HIS responsibility at this stage.  </p><p>"Once the trucks are on their way, the special shipment will be your responsibility, and I wish you joy of it and full credit for its safe delivery.  The others will be handled by me and my men, and I assure you there is no chance of a mixup.  You will be delivering to Hitler exactly what you are intended to deliver."</p><p>Garrison was going over the details one more time, starting to think Chief was right; after this they really would have the experience needed to open their own shipping company.</p><p>"Berger has his 'special' shipment in Truck A.  Alright.  I still wish there had been time for me to look through that a little better, but since Actor says it was all swapped out just like we planned, I'll forego that pleasure.</p><p>"Liestrom has his men ready to take off with the other four trucks with those fancy license plates.  DeReighn says they are all loaded to the gills, not just with three smallish cases each like before, and it's his museum so it's his call.  All of that is headed to another museum for safe keeping, and, yes, I believe him when he tells me that's the case.  I'm going to trust them, though I probably should have my head examined!</p><p>"Rouget, who supposedly engineered this entire carnival along with his friend Dal, says he will see that DeReighn and his people are taken out of harms way before we get out of the city.  HQ should be getting confirmation from DeReighn that we got the job done, and from the other museum once the goods arrive.  Maybe we can keep our heads off HQ's chopping block til then!"</p><p>Actor had to smile at the slightly disgruntled look on the officer's face.  </p><p>"I would say that is a most satisfactory outcome, Craig, and yet you seem less than delighted.  Might I ask why?"</p><p>Garrison gave Actor a disgusted look.  "Because I have the same feeling I had coming into this, that I'm only seeing part of what is happening, am being manipulated.  That there's more to it, blast it!"</p><p>His men laughed at the expression on his face, his words.</p><p>"Blimey, Lieutenant!  'Ow could there be MORE, tell me that!!  Never seen a job with this many twists and turns, all like one big jigsaw puzzle, except with this, even after you get it all together, you can't figure out w'at the ruddy 'ell the picture is supposed to be!  Don't see that's our problem.  If we managed well enough to keep HQ off our backs, I say that's a blessing - probably more than anyone could 'ave expected!"</p><p>Garrison glared at the smirking pickpocket, then at the others.  </p><p>"'Blessing' is one word I never thought of associating with this job, Goniff.  Nice of you to put me straight.  Somehow, though, I doubt that's going to be one of the words I automatically associate with it in the future either, so you might have to keep reminding me."  Yes, there was a world of sarcasm in that voice, no doubt about it, though his pickpocket deliberately chose not to take it that way.</p><p>"Well, see now, Lieutenant, that's one of the things I'm 'ere for, to keep you looking on the bright side of things!  Always nice to know I'm getting the job done!" Goniff said, his head cocked in a proud pose in acknowledgement of his expertise.</p><p>The others groaned, Casino making the extra effort of bopping the Englishman on the side of his head.  Still, they WERE grateful; it looked like Goniff had distracted Garrison from following his previous train of thought.  </p><p>{"Four shipments, then five, then six and maybe one more.  In addition to our own little shopping spree.  Not a bad job!"}</p><p> </p><p>Aftermath:</p><p>*London - HQ:<br/>
The four-man board sat reading the final report.  Colonel Dixon shook his head in admiration.</p><p>"I still don't quite believe it!  The Metropolitan Museum in New York confirms the arrival of twenty-five cases - not twenty-some-odd items but TWENTY-FIVE CASES! of items - from the museum in Bayonne.  By a rather roundabout means, it would appear, but arriving safely, paperwork of provenance incuded!  They acknowledge they understand they are only temporary guardians, but frankly are ecstatic at having the pieces in their possession for however long they are permitted to do so.  They say they even have permission from the curator in Bayonne to display the items, with appropriate security, of course, in fundraisers to benefit the displaced."</p><p>He elected not to linger over those items being shipped directly to New York, not coming back to HQ as had been THEIR plan.  Frankly, he felt they were safer where they were now than being here anyway.  </p><p>And he felt no need to mention that additional note in the communication from the Curator in New York, that "it is a shame the very finest pieces from the museum were removed previously.  I remember touring many years ago, and there were some truly incomparable pieces among those I was given the privilege of viewing.  Hopefully they are somewhere safe, though I am sure DeReighn would have done his best to see to that if it were at all possible.  A most dedicated man, Marco DeReighn, willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to protect what he had been entrusted with."  No sense starting Kingston spouting off about Garrison's men making off with those 'incomparable pieces'; he had a bet with Colonel Jamieson and there was no sense just GIVING the blasted man the thing!)</p><p>Kingston still had that sour look on his face, the one Colonel Jamieson recognized with some amusement as the one usually present when Craig Garrison and his team were involved, most particularly when the young officer and his team pulled off something more spectacular than usual.  He waited for the negative comments he just knew were coming, and he wasn't disappointed.  {"I TOLD Colonel Dixon that jackass Kingston would find something to bitch about!  Now, if it's about Garrison's crew, that's twenty dollars I just won!"}</p><p>"Yes, that's all well and good, of course," Kingston admitted with a distinctly sullen tone.  "So, the Metropolitan received twenty-five cases.  It would be equally interesting to know how much of the collection was liberated by Garrison and his crew but NOT included in that shipment!  A considerable amount, would be my opinion!  It is also my opinion that the debriefing was too superficial, and allowing Major Richards to conduct it was foolhardy in the extreme.  He DOES have a way of stepping up to Garrison's defense, and is far too quick to give him and those scoundrels a free pass."</p><p>Dixon rolled his eyes at Jamieson, acknowledging that lost bet.</p><p>"We also have the sworn word of a member of the museum's board, the curator, in fact, one Marco DeReighn, and the curator of the Metropolitan, accounting for every piece the Germans had thought to steal.  Every piece Garrison and his team were sent in to retrieve is accounted for.  I would think THEIR word would be sufficient, Major," came as a mild reprimand.</p><p>Kingston flushed.  "That's something, of course.  But who knows what ELSE they made off with while they were there!  It's hardly likely this DeReighn had time to do a full inventory!  He DID have to flee for his life at the last minute, didn't he?"</p><p>Well, that was true enough.  The reasoning put forth in the official report was that this Emil Liestrom, the man in charge of the operation, had decided leaving the museum trustee around to proclaim the outrage was undesirable.  It had seemingly taken some fancy footwork for Garrison and the crew to slip the man away and on a safe pathway to freedom.  </p><p> </p><p>*Brandonshire - The Mansion:<br/>
Once they knew Garrison was out of the way and likely occupied for the rest of the afternoon, they eagerly opened the package Mrs. Wilson, the washerwoman, had smuggled up to them.  Having her as the conduit between the Brangle Street Lads and the team was working out beautifuly!  Garrison would never suspect her, not in a million years!</p><p>Holding the truly lovely diamond and ruby Russian headpiece to the light to better admire the workmanship, Actor sighed with pleasure.  A lecture immediately followed, just as they knew it would.</p><p>"A remarkable piece, and quite uncommon in its design for the era in which it was made.  Note the deceptive simplicity of the flat curve where it is meant to fit around the head, quite unlike others from that time which stood proud of the skull to better display the jewels and finely-cut gold framing.  This was far more refined in concept; a pity it never really became popular - it really is quite elegant in nature."</p><p>"It's a ruddy 'eadband, Actor!  The Constable's daughter, Molly, down in the village, 'as one similar, spring metal with little cutouts.  Even got some sparkles on it," Goniff snorted slyly as if in derision, winking at Chief under the guise of rubbing his ear, knowing full well just how horrified the conman would be at that throwaway remark.</p><p>The crew listened with vast amusement as Actor sputtered at the mere idea of comparing a bit of cheap feminine ornamentation purchased at the working class apparel shop in Bayside with the treasure still in his hand.  Finally, though, enough was enough, and Casino broke into the lecture.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, Beautiful!  Don't get yer shorts in a twist!  The Limey's just yanking yer chain.  It sparkles just fine, I'll admit.  Not a bad haul, if I do say so," Casino said with satisfaction, noting the other pieces laid out on the table, eight in total.</p><p>Goniff smirked, "and we didn't even break our word to the Lieutenant!"  He wrinkled up his face in a stern approximation of the glare their leader had given them along with the pronouncement, along with a quite adequate impersonation of that reprimand.  "And I don't want any of those pieces ending up in one of your pockets!" 'e said.  Well, not one of these were part of the 'aul from the museum, either the ones the Jerries were looking to snaffle OR any of the rest!"</p><p>Chief gave a small smile at that proud declaration.  So, it was true, but he was pretty sure Garrison hadn't intended for them to raid the boxes of loot Liestrom had collected from elsewhere on his way to the museum in Bayonne either.  Still, Garrison hadn't said, or asked, specifically, and no one was dumb enough to volunteer the information.  </p><p>Now, Meghada knew, had seen and seemed more than a little amused, having heard Garrison's prohibition and rightly parsing the loophole therein.  But other than leaning over their shoulders and giving a cautionary "that ring, if it's the one I think it is, is thought to be cursed, lads; better leave it behind.  AND that dagger, Chief; you'd be better off with the one over there.  Not as pretty, perhaps, but it has a cleaner provenance and won't smell so badly of innocent blood.  I found the paperwork on this lot; we'll need to be sure we take what applies to anything you decide needs to come with us."</p><p>Meghada had let her fingers drift over the looted De Medici pieces, ones NOT from the Bayonne museum - a ring and pendant, even a pair of bracelets - but reluctantly turned away.  If she was urging restraint on the guys, she needed to show a little herself.  Besides, she had to admit, she really couldn't decide which of the four pieces she preferred, would probably have second thoughts as to her selection later, so it was best to bypass the temptation entirely.  And it WOULD be a shame to break up the set.  At least, that was what she told herself, and most firmly.  Still, the coiled dragon design - bronze and onyx on gold - DID speak to her, and she thought of them wistfully for some time.</p><p>(The next Solstice celebration she hosted for the guys brought her memory back sharply to that mission.  Well, how could it be different, when four small boxes revealed those four treasures?  And if the look of dire suspicion from Garrison, directed at her and his four cons, lessened their joined pleasure, it wasn't by much and certainly for no more than a moment or two.  The officer just shook his head and presented his own gift - a bronze and black silk scarf pin in the shape of a dragon.  If his offering was not on the 'missing' roll of any museum, was truly what they called costume jewelry, still, it did show some serious thought and consideration of what she might like, and she was highly pleased, as much as with the other gifts.)</p><p> </p><p>*Brandonshire - The Cottage:<br/>
Garrison had watched Goniff head back to the Mansion to "do a few things w'at need doing", having the presence of mind not to ask just WHAT things.  He would have, under most circumstances, but for now he had something else on his mind and was glad for the privacy.</p><p>He sipped his drink and looked at the relaxed redhead in the other armchair, pondering what he wanted to say, wanted to ask before the guys arrived for dinner.  Yeah, that was three hours or more away, but considering how long it was taking for him to build up to the subject, he might need every minute between now and then.</p><p>She wasn't helping, just casually tending to her own drink, gently smiling, waiting for him to direct any conversation he might choose.  </p><p>{"Or is she daring me?  There is just something about that glitter in her eyes; I just KNOW she's found the past couple of hours a hell of a lot more amusing than I did, or Goniff either, for that matter!  It was a lot of things, I'll admit that, but not particularly amusing, not to us anyway!  Yes, I think she IS daring me to pick a subject and run with it!"}</p><p>Well, he'd do just that, just drop the anvil, if she wasn't going to give him an assist.  Heaven knows there was plenty to discuss, questions unanswered, faint wisps of suspicion tickling his mind, nagging tugs that pointed to a difference between appearances and reality.  Where to start, though??  </p><p>{"Just pick a point and get started, Garrison,"} he scolded himself.  {"You can get it all in, but you have to start somewhere!"}</p><p>Starting wasn't really the issue, though, and he admitted that to himself silently.  It was what to include - what was important to discuss, what wasn't.  What it was SAFE to discuss, what should be avoided.  </p><p>Oh, he knew logically that there were no unfriendly listeners here, no recording devices, but there WAS his sanity to consider, and as Meghada and his wild card cons had taught him, you couldn't go back and UNHEAR something, even if you really, really wanted to.  That made him tend to be a little more careful about the conversations he initiated, the questions he asked.  Still, he didn't like the way things stood now, so he determined to push ahead.</p><p>First, though, he had to decided how much he really wanted to know about what had really transpired in Bayonne, along with deciding how much of the underlying job, items possibly known only to him, that he intended to share.  </p><p>AND how much to discuss, if anything, of his intense conversation with Goniff about the 'amazingly over-protective and over-reaching tendencies in SOME people', (that accusation being tossed at each other with equal force), that had veered off rapidly into the juvenile range before it was over.  Frankly, he thought she had probably found the whole thing slightly hilarious.</p><p>Of course, she had overheard that conversation; she could hardly help it, being in the kitchen at the time.  He certainly had heard those barely-suppressed snickers of amusement and the snort or two that may have been disgust, though possibly {"probably!"} those had stemmed from amusement as well.  Looking back, he couldn't have blamed her whichever had been the case.</p><p>Early on there had been a very adult, very calm exchange of differing opinions between the two men; that probably lasted all of three minutes.  </p><p>However, that shifted gears rapidly with Garrison's reproachful "if you'd be a little more careful, maybe I wouldn't HAVE to keep such a careful eye on you.  That skylight could have given way, the guards could have gotten wise to all your mousey activities . . ."</p><p>That got a resentful "was paying attention to 'ow much weight that skylight could 'andle, and those guards never got a whiff of me.  If you just 'ad a little more confidence in me . . . " </p><p>Garrison had flared up, answered with a quick "oh, I'm confident, alright - confident you can step into trouble without blinking an eye!"  </p><p>Not that that backed the pickpocket down in the least.  His indignant response had raised the volume a notch or two.  </p><p>"ME??!  That's rich coming from you - 'Lord Blow-Em-Up, While-We're-'Ere-We-Might-As-Well, and oh, by the way, w'ere's the first aid kit cause it seems I managed to get SHOT again!'  Blimey! . . ."  </p><p>Then there had been a few quickly-flung examples each had thought appropriate, now stretching beyond the most recent mission.</p><p>"That blasted crystal swan that you just COULDN'T keep your fingers off of a couple of jobs ago, or last month, that wind-up silver bird you tucked into your pocket that kept trying to whistle every time you got near the guards.  We're lucky you didn't get your head shot off before it wound itself down!"   </p><p>That had led to a snarled "well, don't think I've forgotten Marrakech!  Now just who managed to end up the prize goods on stage at a slave market, eh?  Being paraded around without a stitch to your name cept that chain with your lot number 'anging round your neck?  With those two blokes quarreling w'ether you'd do better as 'Ead Eunuch in charge of the one's bloody 'arem, 'snip-snip!', or as lead 'male concubine' IN the other's??!  Wasn't me, if I remember rightly!  'Ow many times did we warn you not to go getting cozy with that Akmed bloke, that 'e 'ad more in mind than sharing a pot of tea and the blueprints of the place we were after, but noooooo, YOU knew JUST w'at you were doing!"</p><p>Even Garrison had to admit the whole argument had eventually devolved into something better suited to a primary school playground (though, in Meghada's opinion, it hadn't started so very far from there in the first place).</p><p>"Just cause you're taller than me, that don't mean . . !" </p><p>"I don't care if you ARE older than I am, Goniff, that doesn't mean . . .!"</p><p>"West Point my great-aunt Nellie's cat!  W'at did they teach you there that would 'elp you any on the street, eh?  Ruddy aught as far as I can see!"</p><p>"Just because . . . "</p><p>"Just because . . . "</p><p>Meghada had seriously been considering getting out the squirt bottle she kept under the kitchen sink to quell the two, similar to what she'd do with two quarreling cats disrupting the peace of the garden, had even leaned down to open the cabinet in order to do so.  </p><p>When she'd heard that low rippling growl of frustration and intent from the Englishman, a sound almost feral in its intensity, she pulled her hand back, chuckling, knowing such drastic action would not be necessary.  She knew that sound, well enough, thought of it as Goniff's 'inner wolf' making itself known, and easily could picture those hazy blue eyes now sharp and piercing, that jaw now jutting forward in a rare show of dominance.  She knew it meant Goniff had had enough nonsense, had decided to end the argument definitively.  </p><p>Sometimes she wondered if Craig didn't set things in motion toward this end on purpose, not deliberately maybe, but perhaps subconsciously.  As they had all learned, Craig generally found himself reacting in a most unexpected manner when that transformation engulfed the other man, seeming to find it intriguing, enthralling even, certainly exciting at a visceral level, rather than upsetting, which probably meant the arguing was over with for now.  She was right, since the arguing came to an abrupt halt, then silence, then . . .</p><p>She'd heard the aftermath of that argument as well, Garrison was well aware.  He blushed to think of that, especially when she'd responded to his hesitant question with a stern "yes, I imagine any number of people heard you two, Craig, possibly all the way down to the pub and beyond."</p><p>He flushed and admitted ruefully, "yes, that argument did get rather loud, I know."</p><p>Meghada lifted her brows, got a thoughtful look, as if in reflection.  </p><p>"Oh. - - - The argument.  - - -  Yes, well, that too, I suppose."</p><p>After thoroughly enjoying the horrified look on his face, she relented and laughed, had assured him that no one other than herself could have overheard any part of what had occurred, the heated argument or the equally heated reconciliation.</p><p>Still, bringing up that conversation with Emil Liestrom?  Including that wry admission "and your Uncle Jake and my cousin - his wife, the lovely Lucia - asked that I give you their best.  Amazing what a small world it can be at times, Lieutenant Garrison, no?  And they were quite right in their estimation of how much help you and your men would be in this project - quite talented, all of you.  We might try this again some day, should the right opportunity arise."  Somehow he wasn't all that surprised to learn 'Emil's' name was Éric Lucien, not Emil Liestrom.</p><p>And he'd seen that flash of sheer amusement when he'd related the message from David Armand Lanaghan, companion to Auguste Rouget, to Meghada.  Well, both messages, the original and the amended one Auguste had insisted on.  He wouldn't be surprised if that towering redhead, 'Dal', wasn't a relative of some sort on HER side.  {"Small world, indeed!"} he snorted to himself in acknowledgement of the unexpected and numerous fingers twiddling around in this particular pie.</p><p>That smug air of satisfaction from his four cons on the way back?  The accidental bumping into some of the Brangle Street Lads on the docks?  Odd how that happened so often these days, and as usual, quite a tangle it had been for a few seconds.  That none of his guys had so much as a rhinestone in their pockets when they were changing into clean clothes at HQ didn't surprise him; it was rare he found anything on them that they didn't plan for him to find.  Still, had there been anything else?  At least, before that encounter on the docks?</p><p>He sat silently, mulling over the what-were's, the what-if's.  </p><p>{"On the bright side, no one got hurt, other than Casino's pride maybe, or maybe just his composure, though I'm still not sure what he was miffed about.  He's sure not saying; I think Chief knows but if he does, he's not saying anything either, and I'm probably better off not pressing the issue.  HQ is happy, or at least everyone except Kingston, and nothing less than our falling on our faces or on our swords would make HIM happy.  And we shipped off not just the items on that infernal list but a hell of a lot more; the Metropolitan should be ecstatic when they open those boxes.  DeReighn made it out alive, though I'm not sure where he was heading, just that everyone asssured me he'd be safe wherever that was.  Rouget swore he and Lanaghan would get the others out as well.  </p><p>{"And although the display cases and shelves and hooks at the museum all LOOKED pretty well occupied, according to Meghada and Actor, there wasn't anything of real value, real historical importance left in that old building, not even enough to set up a corner stall at a flea market.  Berger will either have to do some very fast talking when he's laying out HIS shipment for the top brass in Berlin, or HE'LL end up in a box.  Unless he's smart enough to make a run for the border and hide out in Switzerland.  In any case, I was assured what he took with him was almost laughable in its lack of value.  That last bit of 'mousing around' by the guys would have assured that; it sounds like Goniff had himself a field day with what he packed away under those top layers.  Pity things got pushed up so fast I didn't get a chance to take a good look."}</p><p>In the end?  He settled for discussing Major Kingston's sour looks at the debriefing, having another drink, letting her feed him another piece of that currant and wild honey pastry without regard to whether it would spoil his appetite for dinner, and nodding off in his chair to the blues record on the phonograph while she busied herself in the kitchen.</p><p>His last thought as he drifted off?  {"Oh, well.  It's probably better that way.  Saying less means hearing less, which means less I have to try and wipe from my mind."}.  He figured she thought so too, even though she HAD offered that final toast, "to family near and far, Sweet Mother Erdu bless them every one.  What ever would we do for amusement without them, Craig??"  </p><p>He purposefully neglected to ask if she was including him in that 'amusement provided' category.  He really didn't want to know.</p><p> </p><p>*Homeland:</p><p>Marco and his beloved Goldie, aka the Banshae D'Or, the Golden Banshee, otherwise known as The Grandmother of Clan O'Donnell, chuckled over a glass of fine bourbon.  They truly were pleased at the notion of spending the total of their remaining years together instead of just the three months out of every year as had been their custom, and it was more than time the treasures in her castle had someone take a care to them.  Especially with that new lot that had just arrived, a nucleus of a new museum to be formed after the war was over - along with, of course, those items entrusted to the New York Museum, those to be retrieved later.  The items now in the castle were those he felt could not be entrusted to anyone else, "far too much of a temptation, you see, even for the most honorable curator to ever let out of his hands again."</p><p>"And they were truly delightful to watch, my dear.  To manage to bring those particular individuals together to deal with my little problem was a stroke of sheer genius on your part!  The Luciens alone could not have managed it, that we agreed, though Éric is extremely talented.  Your own people are talented, no one more so than David Lanaghan, but so many of the ones for which this would have been suited were otherwise occupied.  It was only fair that the Allies lend a hand; after all, it is only in their own best interest to disrupt the flow of additional funds to Hitler and his thugs.  And with Lieutenant Garrison and his team being Family as well, it was an ideal solution to a most troubling situation.  Pity we couldn't tell him the whole story, but perhaps the time will come for that.</p><p>"Now, the primary collection is HERE, perfectly safe.  Not that those know-it-alls in London are aware of that; I made sure no mention of ANY of THOSE items were brought to their attention in the first place.  </p><p>"The next tier and a great deal more is in New York, at the Metropolitan, safer than it would be in most places, certainly.  The next lot is in Switzerland, being put at private auction by your representative; that should provide my devoted employees a continued income until the museum might reopen, if there is anything left to reopen.  Auguste and David will do their best to see they are kept safe, as much as is possible in wartime.</p><p>"And Hitler?  I wonder if anyone will have the nerve to tell him that he has received a shipment of forgeries, oddities and sheer trash - interesting, of course, exquisitely done, some of them, and having some value, but not exactly what he was looking for.  Though I found considerable amusement in those pornographic statuettes that the pickpocket so thoughtfully included, including the tiny moustache and forelock he pasted on that one sea captain being rogered by King Triton."</p><p>Goldie laughed, a rather harsh laugh with a bit of a hiss behind it.  Some would have found it disturbing, certainly off-putting.  Marco found it entrancing, even stimulating - he always had, even since their first meeting so very many years ago.</p><p>"And then there is the lot the original agent had made off with - what the enterprising man had collected before he even arrived at Bayonne.  Éric took possession of the majority of that as well when he removed the annoying man and took his place; quite a tour de force, a masterful impersonation, but then that is what the Lucien family is known for.  Minus what Meghada's boys took from that lot as their share, of course.  He sent me a list after he did an inventory; a four-piece De Medici coiled dragon adornment set, a Russian clasp crown, an extremely well-balanced Venetian dagger and jeweled sheath, and a few other assorted items - eight in total.  He says they have extremely good taste; he rather hated to lose the pieces, but admitted it was only fair considering he would never have been able to pull off the job without their intervention."</p><p>Marco chuckled.  "Did he REALLY ask if he could contact them in the future should another like opportunity arise?  I doubt Lieutenant Garrison would be overly pleased at the impertinence of asking for a repeat performance, even if Jake Travers makes the call personally.</p><p>"I doubt Lieutenant Garrison would be all that thrilled to find out who initiated that little foray in the first place, Marco - well, along with Auguste and David, of course, once you alerted them to the danger.  Craig is a delightful boy, in many ways, as are they all, but he is unlikely to enter into such ventures unless on the side of the angels.  And, my dear Marco, there really were no angels involved in this little project, at least not so far as the lieutenant would be likely to acknowledge," Goldie reminded her long-time lover - well, one of several.</p><p>"Now, there you and I must disagree," Marco argued, refilling their glasses from the crystal decanter.  "The museum was slated to be looted; that could not be avoided.  There were hints the premises itself was to be razed as a sign of the superiority of the Third Reich over such decadence - it seems such richness in the hands of Berlin is one thing, but such being where the common people can view them and 'get ideas' is quite a different thing.  My devoted employes were to be left destitute - if they were left alive in the first place.  The art that had been collected over such a span of time, at such effort and expense, would have disappeared - poof! - never to be seen again.  I doubt I would have been left alive to tell the tale.  Those involved may not have worn halos and wings, but surely this should be written down on the glowing, not the smoking, side of any record book that is being kept."</p><p>Marco frowned slightly before bringing up the subject he'd been slightly hesitant about mentioning.  Still, it kept worrying at his curiosity bump, so he gave in.  He thought he might sleep better knowing (though, maybe not, depending on the answer he received).</p><p>"And Meghada - how much did she know and how is she taking the whole affair?  I admit it makes me a little uncomfortable to think of deceiving her; she DOES have a reputation of having little patience for such.  I would hate to wake up one night to have her sitting on the side of my bed desiring a little quiet 'conversation'."</p><p>Goldie nodded approvingly; well, she'd wondered when he'd get around to asking that question.  Marco never HAD been a fool.</p><p>"Did I tell her?  No.  Did she know?  I imagine she realized something was off as soon as she was given the initial description of the target - she would have know there were far more valuable pieces available.  Perhaps she would have assumed you had already secured the other pieces elsewhere, but she would have KNOWN something was in the works when you gave her the description of the 'prize collection' hidden in the kitchen, described them as being 'the finest pieces the museum has ever had in its possession'.  She has been through your museum plenty of times; she knew quite well what pieces were gold versus dross, so to speak, at least on a sliding scale.  </p><p>"I expected that, of course - which is why both you and Éric had a code word to pass along to her, along with David and his Auguste.  She would have played along, knowing you were speaking for me - at least in THIS little venture.  She probably wasn't overly-pleased, but she would have trusted that I meant her and hers no harm.</p><p>"Had this been to the detriment of her man and his friends, I would not have ventured there - she may be young Dragan to my older and wiser Banshea, but even I would not like to have her seriously, bitterly angry with me - but it wasn't.  So many of the players were already on our side, and those who weren't were clearly marked; the danger was minimal, hardly more than what they experience when they are off-duty, certainly less than when they are out and about on their more official duties.  Our goals and those of the Allies were, well, in some ways anyway, alike - avoid any substantial additions to Hitler's war chest.  That we had others unknown to the Allies, that was really irrelevant, don't you think?"</p><p>Marco shook his head in wonderment at the plan the Grandmother had put into place.  What Goldie considered irrelevant he was quite sure many of the others involved would have differed in their opinion - quite loudly, probably.  From what he had seen of Lieutenant Garrison, HIS opinion would have been less than favorable.  Perhaps not as unfavorable as whoever was running things in London.  Certainly not as unfavorable as those in Berlin would see things, if they knew the truth.  But still . . </p><p>{"It is as if she has a chessboard, a three dimensional one, tucked into the side of her head, where she is constantly moving pieces around to form the patterns she desires.  Amazing!  In some ways, she reminds me of Lieutenant Garrison, or rather, he reminded me of her.  Only in some ways, of course."}</p><p> </p><p>*Brandonshire - The Mansion, the Side Courtyard</p><p>"Pappy, it wasn't like we did it on purpose.  Not really.  Maybe . . ."</p><p>"I don't wanna talk about it!"</p><p>(Silence)</p><p>"Casino," a patient voice started again.  "It's not that big a deal.  I don't get what you're so upset about.  It's not like it's likely going to happen again."</p><p>A deep growl was his answer, followed by a "I said I don't wanna talk about it!  Wash yer ears out, why doncha?!  Sheesh, don't you have something better to do than pester me?"</p><p>A deep exasperated sigh, then footsteps leading away.  Casino didn't turn around to watch the other leave, just kept morosely puffing on his cigarette.</p><p>Goniff met Chief at the kitchen doorway.</p><p>"No Casino?  'E don't want a drink and some cards?  Got something else in mind?"</p><p>"From what I can tell, he don't have ANYTHING going on in his mind, except he's got some bee up his .  . ." Chief stopped, surprised he'd let his annoyance show to that extent, even with Goniff.</p><p>"Surely 'e ain't still pissed at you about w'atever Colette said to 'im before we left.  W'atever it was, can't see 'ow it would be YOUR fault!"</p><p>"Maybe wasn't what Colette said, maybe it was what Ella told him right after.  He got real redfaced then, you know.  Don't know what it could of been, though, to get him that upset.  Wouldn't have had anything to do with me anyhow, not that I can figure out."</p><p>Goniff squinched up his nose.  "You think it was that, not the blistering the Lieutenant gave 'im when 'e found out it wasn't just a few minutes 'iding in the girls' room but a few 'ours playing something else?  You got the same blistering!  Well, maybe not so much, since the Lieutenant 'ad to know Casino would've been dragging you along even if you'd tried to 'ang back with an offer like that."</p><p>Chief shook his head in true bewilderment.  </p><p>"Don't think so, Goniff.  Don't know WHAT'S in his craw.  Can't think of anything, except it's connected to Bayonne and the girls; I'm sure of that.  I don't know.  Wasn't like I showed him up or anything, or that he was neglected.  He was with Colette first, like I was with Ella, but then later we switched around, so that can't be it.  You think he was maybe embarrassed, us two and the girls?  I mean, right there in the same room?  It did seem a little off at first, but there were two beds, after all.  Still, maybe he WAS embarrassed."</p><p>They considered that, frowning as they tried to picture Casino going all embarrassed at the proximity, especially enough for it still to be bothering him.  Then, in unison, they shrugged and shook their heads.  "Nah, not likely," and they headed in to join Actor for a drink and to start a game of poker.  Maybe Casino would join them later, once he got rid of that pesky bee.</p><p>In the side courtyard Casino glumly stood smoking his fourth cigarette, caught up in remembering dark eyes staring into his, a familiar face flushed with passion, chest streaming with sweat, body moving to a rhythm that shook Casino to his very soul. </p><p>With a harsh curse, he made one more try at stuffing that memory back into the cramped corner of his mind where he'd shoved it after that night in Bayonne.  Why the damned thing wouldn't stay where he put it, kept popping back out at odd moments to torment him, he didn't know.  </p><p>"Shit, kid!  Yer gonna drive me out of my mind, ya know that??!" he groaned, before stubbing out his cigarette and heading back inside for a drink and a chance to win a little pocket money at cards.  Maybe he'd visit Josie afterwards, see if she could take the pressure off.  Yeah, that should do the trick.</p><p> </p><p>*Germany - a small hotel:</p><p>And in a hotel room just outside Berlin, an exuberant Klaus Berger dismissed his driver and guards, ran his hands over the three chests of treasures he had acquired for his leader.  Moistening his suddenly dry lips, he steadied himself to open those chests for the first time since liberating them from the museum.  Soon, soon he would get the reward his Fuhrer had promised him!!   Soon!</p><p>But first, he would feast his eyes one more time on the riches he would lay at the feet of the exhalted one! </p><p>The driver and guards were getting a drink in the hotel bar, grumbling slightly at this last-minute delay when they'd hoped to reach Berlin and be able to seek out their own beds tonight.  They froze at the howl of dismay and outrage and perhaps sheer madness that came from above their heads.  Dropping their glasses, they dashed up the stairs, revolvers in hand, and forced open the locked door.  Klaus Berger, favored one, the one they had each envied for his position, for the reward that would be waiting for him, sat weeping in the middle of the floor, those three chests open and now empty, the contents scattered around like so much debris from a shipwreck.  </p><p>"Herr Berger?  Herr Berger, what is wrong?" the senior guard asked cautiously.</p><p>But Herr Berger was in no condition to reply.  He just continued to weep unconsoleably, rocking back and forth, his eyes empty of anything but his bitter tears.  </p><p>The driver stepped forward, hesitantly, and picked up the figurine that lay loosely in Berger's lap.  He gulped and shuddered at the sight.  The others took notice and soon followed suit - somehow they just knew that exquisite figurine, cleverly shaped, delicately enhanced with gold and glittering gems would gain no favor in the halls of Berlin.  The subject matter was bad enough, a sea captain, hat intact, though the same could not be said for his trousers, busily being attended to by what appeared to be a crowned half-man, half-sea creature with a flowing beard and a trident lashed over his bare shoulders.  But for someone to have glued a tiny straight moustache and downswept forelock to the sea captain's weeping face?  Oh, no, that would not go over well at all!</p><p>They discussed the matter, but in the end bundled all the so-called treasures, now showing their true colors to the harsh light, back in the chests and then into the truck.  Herr Berger was similarly bundled, wrapped in quilts from the hotel room.  Their leader made no complaint at the cavalier treatment, or their abandonment of him, the truck and the chests.  Yes, abandonment, them having decided against trying to explain any of this to their superiors, instead making a fast break for Switzerland in a car they had hastily stolen, along with the remainder of the expense money and one or two items that seemed as if they just might have SOME value.</p><p>Alas, Herr Berger was past complaining, or speaking, or thinking.  Herr Berger was past much of anything, other than weeping and drooling, though that would surely not exempt him from the firing squad that would be waiting for him in Berlin once the truck and its contents were discovered by the next roving patrol.  No, between not showing up with the riches he'd been sent for, plus the presence of that figurine of the sea captain, and the chess set with that mockery of a king, nevermind all the rest, Hitler was bound to be less than amused, and that never ended well.  Not well at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Reference to 'Uncle Jake and his lovely Lucia' refers to Craig's Uncle Jake Travers and his wife, Lucia Lucien Travers.  They were introduced previously and reappeared in various stories.  Short snapshot - Jake was a spy/agent in the previous war; Lucia part of the far-flung Lucien family, a talented group of 'entrepreneurs' specializing in activities Garrison's men also have a talent for.  Together Jake and Lucia taught Craig a great deal of what he knows and uses now in dealing with the war and his wild card cons.  Side note: Lucia's sister, Gabrielle, is a famed con artist known to Actor; Gabrielle had a hand in training the young Meghada several years ago.</p><p>Reference to 'The Grandmother' refers to the acknowledged leader of the matriarchal Clan O'Donnell, a crafty and temperamental female known for many things, though 'shy and reserved' not being included on the list.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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